Amorous
by PaintedFingers
Summary: The everyday lives of everyone's favourite yaoi couple
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Greetings and salutations! Feel free to skip to the story if you want, but as this is the first chapter I think I should mention a few things here. For starters, please note that there will most likely be lemons in the future. Probably some violence, too. You have been warned. Not too much happens in this first chapter, just testing the waters, I guess. Things'll pick up in chapters 2 to 3. I'll try to keep everybody in character, but no promises. Expect updates sporadically. I think that's everything...?**

**+All characters belong to Yamane Ayano because let's be honest I don't have that type of talent/imagination+**

**Be sure to fav&amp;review! Or don't. No pressure.**

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Golden light from the evening sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the condo. On the pristine white couch lay a scantily-clad Takaba Akihito, who had flopped there some twenty minutes ago. He had spent the afternoon wandering the spacious condo aimlessly after his lover had left for work for the day. Akihito had dusted the countless artifacts around the apartment, taking special care with Asami's prized antique pistols. He had taken a bath. He'd attempted to teach himself to juggle. He'd dusted again. And yet _somehow, _all of that effort had only used up about 4 hours. He lay in the living room on his stomach now, face buried into a plush pillow.

"I am so BORED!" he screamed, hoping the pillow muffled the sound enough that the guards stationed outside would not be alerted. The last thing he wanted was a couple of startled men busting in here with guns drawn. Tiredly, he lifted his head to view his custom-made Rolex, a gift from Asami. '_I want this with you at all times,' _he had said. "I wish _you _were with me at all times, asshole," Akihito said to no one in particular. Even on his days off, Asami was taking phone calls every hour or so and arranging people's deaths, or whatever it was crime lords did on their days off. He would never say it, of course, but Akihito sometimes hated having to share Asami's time with the rest of Japan.

_ When did I start sounding like such a housewife? _Akihito shook all remnants of those thoughts from his mind as he stood and made his way to the bedroom. _He's  
crazy if he thinks I'm going to stay here waiting for him everyday, _Akihito thought as he marched to the closet and looked for something to put on.

xxxXXXxxx

_I knew he wouldn't stay there long, _Asami chuckled to himself. From his office in Sion, he watched as his little lover checked his watch for the twentieth time that day. The security cameras, which he had never really had a need for before Akihito, were proving to be a worthy investment. They provided him with a means to check on Aki regularly, and they gave him his much-needed fix of seeing his young lover. As his kitten walked to the wardrobe in their shared bedroom, Asami decided to give his lover a call.

Akihito was pulling a pair of skinny jeans out of the closet when he heard his phone buzzing on the bed. He placed the pants on the duvet and checked the caller ID. He answered on the third ring. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he greeted, placing the phone between his ear and shoulder. He needed to finish picking out his clothes.

Asami was leaned back in his office chair, savouring the view of his adorable lover's body as he walked around the room on the monitor. "Do I need an excuse to call my boyfriend?" he mused, knowing full well that the title would leave Akihito too flustered to say anything else. He was so easy to read.

The younger man ignored the comment and held out two shirts in front of him, pondering which would look better with the jeans. "I'm busy, so could you cut to the chase?" he asked, a little harsher than intended. _Blue or green, blue or green..._

"I just called to inform you that I'll be having dinner with a business partner tonight, so you don't have to cook," he glanced at the door, where Kirishima was entering with what appeared to be a stack of financial reports. When he heard silence on the other end of the line, he smirked. "Unless you'd rather I came home? If you miss me, I can arrange—"

"That won't be necessary!" Aki said, his embarrassment clear.

"Well then, I'll be seeing you later tonight," Asami said in his sensual baritone voice. "One last thing before you go, Aki?"

"What is it?"

xxxXXXxxx

Two shirts in hand, he listened to his lover tell him about yet another obligation he had to attend. This would be the third one this week. Asami's absence was getting more noticeable. His spirit deflated a little, but he still resolved to have a good time that night, with or without the Yakuza.

His lover interrupted his thoughts. "Unless you'd rather I came home? If you miss me, I can arrange—"

"That won't be necessary," he said aloud. _I'm Takaba Akihito, I will not beg him for attention like some neglected housewife! _

With that, Asami ended the conversation. "One last thing before you go, Aki?" he heard from the other end of the line. What could his lover want now? More time away from home, no doubt.

"What is it?" he asked, all the annoyance gone out of his voice. He could never stay mad at the man for long. Who knows, maybe he was going to tell him that he's decided to cancel his business dinner. . . .

"Go with the blue one," Akihito stood still for a second, confused by his lover's words. _The blue one?. . . ._

He turned around and regarded the camera that sat just above the wardrobe. "Dammit, Asami!" He hurled the blue shirt at the camera where it covered the lens, blocking his lover's prying eyes. Oh yeah, he was going out tonight. No doubt about it.

xxxXXXxxx

Back at Sion, Asami had to hold his ear away from his phone and the loud profanities that streamed from it. After he had finished his tirade, Aki hung up without saying goodbye. Asami was content with the reaction, and even his ever stoic secretary had to crack a smile.

His phone call with his kitten over, he sat down at his large oak desk. He couldn't indulge himself with Akihito any longer, there was work to be done. There had been some problems in his organization recently, and he fully intended to weed them out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Writing this chapter has made me realize a couple of things. For starters, I know next to nothing about Japanese culture/life/anything. Like, really, nothing. So if/when I make a mistake about something, feel free to call me uncultured swine and correct me. The second thing I've realized is that I'm not good at making up names for people/places. -sigh- Anyway, enjoy :)  
**

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Akihito had just hung up on Asami after giving him a piece of his mind. _Just who the hell does he think he is? Spying on people, what an ass! _Content with his outfit for the evening, he walked back into the living room, glaring at every security camera he saw along the way. He grabbed his keys, his wallet, and his jacket, along with a small digital camera that he kept with him at all times. Stopping at the genkan to pull on his shoes—a dark brown pair of flats, perfect for dancing—Akihito noticed himself in the full-length mirror that hung on the wall beside him. He was of average build, maybe a little short. His hair, sandy brown with a hint of blond, hung in a boyish cut that made him appear younger than his 24 years. The skinny jeans made his legs look longer, and paired with the beige jacket he deemed himself to look pretty damn good. It was on days like these that he could almost see why his lover was attracted to him.

Straightening up, he turned to the door and left for the evening without a backward glance.

xxxXXXxxx

_'Takaba-sama is leaving the penthouse, sir.'_

Asami looked at the message from the guard with interest. He had ordered Taneda to report Akihito's movements, alerting him should the photographer get himself into some sort of trouble. _Oh? And just where do you think you're going, Akihito? _Asami responded to Taneda, a smirk on his face.

_'Follow him.' _The condo didn't need to be guarded constantly, unlike his lover who seemed to be a magnet for all types of trouble. Besides, that place was more secure than Fort Knox. He had his men working as maintenance staff, janitors, receptionists, and all of them were armed. He owned the building and everyone in it. With nothing to do but wait for Taneda's next report, he turned his attention back to his work.

On the desk in front of him lay thirty or so folders, each containing the financial status of one of his properties. He had gone through them a few minutes ago, and all were profiting handsomely. Most would have been satisfied with that knowledge, and would have left things at that. Asami Ryuichi was not one of those people. He had a sixth sense for bullshit, and one of the folders reeked of it. He placed his cellphone on the desk and picked up the offending folder. The club, Club Astrid, was one of his newer ones. It had been operational for over two years now, catering to the younger members of Tokyo's upper class. It had been making him money since its opening night, but recently, the numbers hadn't been adding up. He had let it go the first couple of months, because the club was doing so well. Now, though, he was beginning to rethink that.

"Kirishima, did you go over these before you brought them here?" he asked without looking up. His secretary had been standing there diligently as his boss looked through each folder, ready to answer any questions Asami might have about them.

"Of course, sir," he replied. Had he missed something? Was something wrong with the reports? He began to get nervous.

"And have you noticed anything wrong?" the crime lord asked, closing the folder and placing it down among the others.

Kirishima tried to swallow, his mouth suddenly dry. He usually didn't fear his boss and longtime friend, but then again, he had never been on the receiving end of Asami's wrath. "Not that I could see, sir," he said with more confidence than he felt.

"Hn," was all Asami said. He stood, gathering the folders into a neat pile and leaving Club Astrid's on top. Handing the pile back to Kirishima, he finally spoke. "Have the mole in Club Astrid gather the _real _financial data. _All _of it."

"Yes, Asami-sama." Kirishima bowed deeply and turned to leave the office. As he exited, he wondered what it was that could be wrong with the report Club Astrid's manager had given him. Was it a fake? He would soon find out. It wasn't common knowledge, but Asami kept numerous men from his underground dealings as employees for his legal businesses. They were useful for gathering inside information that the managers didn't want to share with him. Each was under strict instruction to monitor the goings on at their businesses, without the managers or the police finding out. It would be simple enough to find out if any of the information was falsified.

Now in his own office, painted white with dark, sleek furniture to match Asami's, Kirishima looked at Astrid's folder again. The Club was profiting, no new employees, everything seemed fine. Orders were orders, though, and he contacted the mole through the private line in his office.

xxxXXXxxx

Akihito walked from the building toward the busy main street. He could have taken his bike or any of Asami's ridiculous cars, but he needed the walk after being cooped up all day. The street was full, cars and people passed going in both directions. The sun had just set, but it was still light enough to see. Twilight was the perfect time for photos, and Akihito stopped to admire the reflection of the indigo sky in the windows of the tall buildings that surrounded him. The wide street was alive with the bustle of a Friday night, and Akihito loved it. He turned and inserted himself into the stream of people, headed to a club he had heard about. Extensive research on his part had shown that the club didn't belong to Asami, so he was safe on that front. He was going to have a good time, damn it, and he would prefer to do it without being watched by Asami's employees.

xxxXXXxxx

Asami had just sent Kirishima away when his phone vibrated with a message from Taneda.

_'He's headed east, I'm not sure of his destination yet.'_

The man smirked, pleased that Akihito was upset about him missing dinner at home again. He turned to face the large window at the back of his office, admiring the fading sky and wondering what exactly his lover was doing. He lit a cigarette and took a few drags in silence. There was nothing Asami Ryuichi hated more than thieves. Everything he had, he'd earned through hard work and dedication. The news of Club Astrid had put him in a fowl mood, but thoughts of Akihito remedied that quickly. He stared at the skyline, lost deep in his thoughts. He pictured how his lover had, not 24 hours ago, moaned his name as he writhed in pleasure. How he arched his back as he came, smearing his stomach _yet again _with his spend. How Akihito's nails dug into his back when he hit his sweet spot _just right—_

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. "Enter," he said irritably. Teru, one of his chauffeurs, hesitatingly opened the heavy door. He must have heard Asami's annoyance. He bowed deeply, and spoke without actually entering the office, lest he anger Asami more.

"Sir, the limo is ready whenever you are," he spoke nervously. He rarely had to speak to the boss directly, and wasn't very good with speech in general. His marksmanship had earned him a job under Asami, but his nerves kept him from being a secretary or bodyguard.

"Good," Asami said. He gathered his briefcase and jacket, and walked with Teru to the elevator.

xxxXXXxxx

Akihito heard the music before he could see the club. It had gotten dark by the time he reached his destination, and the less favourable pedestrians had started to appear. Twice on his walk he had caught men staring at his ass, and one had blatantly tried to cop a feel. He would be glad to be in the darkness of the club, where hopefully no one would bother him.

As he got closer to the building, he noticed the mass of people waiting to get inside. The line had to be half a block long, but it seemed to be moving fast, and Aki had nothing better to do anyway. He took his spot at the back, eager to get inside and start enjoying himself.

Things were moving slower than expected, and finally, Akihito had reached the head of the line. Through the large glass double doors in front of him he could feel the pulsating music and see the crowd of people dancing in time with it. There were strobe lights, and a fog machine, and—is that a live band? Oh _hell _yeah, he had to get in there. Between him and all that fun, however, was a wall. Or at least, a man that resembled a wall.

"Um, pardon me..." Aki said shyly as he tried to move past the bouncer. He was met with the force of an enormous hand pushing him backward.

"The entrance fee, cutie," he said with a wink. Akihito glanced up at the man's face, which took some effort on his part. He was easily a foot taller than Akihito, and probably three times his weight. The man wore a black suit with sunglasses, despite the darkness outside, and had a shaven head.

_Entrance fee? _Akihito thought. _Since when was there an... _it dawned on him. Asami didn't own this club. He actually had to pay to get in. As he reached into his pocket for his wallet, he mentally cursed Asami for getting him used to something like that. Much to his dismay, his wallet was nowhere to be found. It must have fallen out of his pocket, along with his keys...Asami would never let him live this down if he found out. He looked up at the bouncer sheepishly.

"I, uh, must have forgotten my cash at home," he explained awkwardly. The bouncer sighed and slowly raked his eyes over Akihito. He smirked, and Akihito now realized that was only cute when Asami did it.

"I'll let you in for now, if you promise to repay the favour later tonight..."

"What was that, asshole?" Akihito was about to pick the worst fight of his life and punch the man square in his fat nose. What was he, some walking sex toy? He'd just about had it with annoying perverts for the night, and he brought his arm back for the punch. As he did, however, he was interrupted by a strong hand grabbing his arm. He was about to turn around and give this new character a piece of his mind too, but the man had a firm hold on him.

"Don't worry about him, he's with me," the commanding tone of his voice indicated that this guy was clearly the boss around here. He was almost as tall as baldy, albeit less physically intimidating. He had dark brown hair that was swept back in a casual business look. His eyes, a medium brown colour, had a hint of humour in them as he spoke to the bouncer. He was wearing a nice suit—not as nice as Asami's, but nice—and Akihito couldn't help but admire his nonchalant voice.

The man, whom Akihito presumed to be the manager, escorted him inside. The entrance hall was dimly lit, with large paintings of exotic animals gracing the walls every few feet. The pulsing music was getting louder as the duo approached the main room. "Don't mind him, he gets a kick out of teasing our patrons," the manager smiled at Aki, one of those heart-warming smiles that reached his whole face and made girls fawn. Oh yeah, this guy was hot. Aki couldn't deny that, but something about him seemed...off. His shoulders weren't wide enough, and he didn't have a voice as smooth as silk. His eyes weren't smouldering golden fires that drew you in with their heat. Akihito didn't feel any electricity when the man touched his arm earlier. In short, this man wasn't Asami Ryuichi.

Akihito snorted. That was one more thing Akihito could curse the bastard for. Compared to him, most men were average-looking at best, which ruined his chances of finding an acceptable lover should the two ever part.

The two men walked into the main room, and Akihito was ready to hit the dance floor. He needed to release some stress, and the music was calling to him. At some point the manager offered to take his jacket—which Akihito gladly allowed, it was hot as hell in there. He finally allowed himself to dive into the mass of pulsating bodies, and let the blasting music lift away all cares of the outside world. It was nice in here, without the pressure of being followed by bodyguards 24/7. All he had to do was _feel _the beat, and it was like nothing else mattered.

xxxXXXxxx

Asami was on his way to that dinner with—who was it again? Some politician and his wife...anyway, he was not looking forward to it. He would much rather be at home, wringing orgasms out of his lover's lithe body. He'd had a shitty week, a shitty day, and now he was stuck with a shitty chauffeur. The boy, Teru, could barely drive straight. He was an awkward mess, and frankly, Asami was regretting letting Kirishima hire him more and more with every bump they drove over. They were almost halfway to the restaurant where the meeting was to take place when Asami received a call from his secretary.

xxxXXXxxx

This couldn't be right. Never in his life had he missed anything this important. Kirishima Kei prided himself on being the best at whatever the boss needed him to be at the time, but this, _this _might be the undoing of all of that. He stared at the email on his computer screen, comparing the numbers with those of the file in his hand. They weren't just _drastically _different, the profit that Club Astrid had told Asami they'd made was off by several decimal places. And that was only for this month! Who knows how much money they'd hidden from him before this...Asami was going to be pissed. He picked up his phone to call his boss directly, grateful that he didn't have to deliver the news face to face.

xxxXXXxxx

Teru glanced at the rearview mirror at his boss, who sat in the back of the limo. He hadn't been working under Asami for very long, but it was widely known that this was one yakuza you didn't want to upset. He'd been known to exterminate anyone who pissed him off or betrayed him—employees included. It was because of this that Teru drove as smoothly as possible, which wasn't saying much. The road was full of pot holes here and—_Shit!_ They just hit another one. He glanced at his boss to find golden eyes fixed on him in a death stare. He could feel that gaze boring into his soul, and it was terrifying. Thankfully, the boss seemed to have a call coming through, so he would be otherwise occupied for at least a few minutes. As Asami answered the call, Teru decided he would use this time to pray for a miracle that would distract his angry boss' attention.

"Turn around," came the command from the backseat. Teru glanced in the mirror nervously. He had been praying for an alien invasion when Asami had spoken.

"H-Huh?" he said sheepishly.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Teru,"

Right. That was rule number two in the handbook. _'Don't make the boss ask for anything twice.' _Rule number one was to protect Takaba-sama and the boss at all costs.

He turned the limo around in an illegal U-turn and headed the opposite direction. "C-can I ask where exactly we're headed, sir?"

"Club Astrid. I've got some business to take care of there," Asami replied. He was gazing out of the window now, not looking at much since it was dark outside. There would be hell to pay for those who dared to steal from Asami Ryuichi. Teru was just thankful that Asami-sama was thinking about something other than his incompetent driving.

"And Teru," Asami growled, eyeing his employee in the mirror.

"Yes, Asami-sama?"

"After that's done, we're going to have a little chat about your employment,"

_Damn. _"Yes, Asami-sama."

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**I know not much happened in this one, but I swear it'll get better next chapter! I've got big plans for this fic, big plans!**


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